Fame and Misfortune

Summary -- Hermione moves back into the dungeons with Severus and decides it\'s time for her to move on. A promise is made. Severus sets out to woo his wife.

A/N – This story is brought to you by my two wonderful betas, Kathy Rose and Larilee. I don’t own any of the characters, much less the universe. This chapter is actually two chapters combined...hence the unusual length.

--

Chapter Twelve –

He punched his pillow with a vengeance and tried to get comfortable on the settee – the one he’d hexed so long ago. The sun was sure to be spilling over the horizon soon, not that he could see it in his dungeon abode. The important thing was that Hermione slumbered in the next room.

After a three-on-one confrontation and subtle manipulations (he had a whole new insight into Minerva and Albus now), his wife had finally given up. She’d made only one demand – that he sleep elsewhere. Yes, he could have slept anywhere, but he needed to be near her in the event that Lockhart tried anything.

The door to his bedchamber crept open, a soft light spilling into the hall and sitting room. His wife whispered a soft curse as she stubbed her toe on something. Watching her silhouette move around furniture and past him, he sighed.

Hermione froze, seemingly waiting for him to fall into a deeper sleep. Her shadow took a hesitant step around the chair. “Just please stay asleep,” she whispered pleadingly.

Moving his hand under his pillow, Severus grabbed his wand. “Lumos. It’s normally a good idea to not talk to the person you are trying to sneak past.”

Severus didn’t know what startled his wife more, the light from his wand or the fact that he was awake and talking to her. She stumbled at the chair, took a step backwards into the end table, and fell into his lap.

He would have laughed, but the press of her softness against certain anatomically deprived parts was too much to bear. Her loose hair caressed his chest. She struggled against him, murmuring apologies and trying to stand. One of her hands flattened against his chest in the attempt.

Flicking his wand at an oil lamp, he ignited the wick and illuminated more of the scene. His wife was dressed in Muggle jeans, a black jumper and a pair of trainers. A heavy bag hung from her shoulder – a bag that looked as though it carried a great deal of things.

“I am so sorry,” she stammered as her wide amber eyes lingered on his chest. “I w-was going for a walk and –”

“At four-thirty in the morning?” Severus questioned, looking at the clock on the mantle. “And with such a heavy bag?”

Hermione renewed her struggles to dislodge herself from his embrace. Her twisting and turning only encouraged his resolve.

“Let me go,” she demanded weakly with no conviction.

If Severus didn’t know better, he would think she wanted to be caught. “Are you going to answer my question?” he murmured, inhaling the enticing scent of her hair.

“I’m leaving,” Hermione declared.

His grasp around her waist tightened.

“Don’t you see?” She stopped struggling. “If I stay, everyone’s in danger. I need to leave.”

Pressing his lips against her temple, Severus sighed. “You thought that was the answer the last time, Hermione. In fact, we were married for a little over a day before you realized that you had put me in danger. At which point you demanded an annulment. Luckily, we had already consummated the marriage.”

--

His lips moved from her temple to her cheek, and she just couldn’t resist the lure and turned her head. “I think –”

“Stop thinking and feel,” Severus whispered huskily before settling his questing lips over hers.

A current of energy flew between them, causing Hermione to gasp. Her husband took full advantage of her gasp, plundering her mouth and tugging on that deep ache just below her navel. His tongue swept from side to side, seducing hers.

Feeling his erection bobbing against her bum as he shifted her in his lap, Hermione wrapped one arm around his back. The sensual nature of the kiss called to the needy throb and she moaned.

She could tell he was reluctant to break the kiss, but he did so slowly. Trailing his thin, surprisingly soft lips from one corner of her mouth to another, he sighed and bowed his head. Some of his hair fell forward, masking his expression.

She could feel her breasts tingle and the ache in her belly twitch. This was the kind of kiss that one could spend their whole life comparing others to. One thing was for certain. Her former Potions professor knew how to snog.

Some impulse guided her hand, the one that wasn’t wrapped around his back, to touch his oily hair. She wanted to look at him. Surely this was some bizarre game he was playing with her. Tucking the displaced hair behind his ear, she explored the texture of his cheek.

As if he were starving for human contact, he nuzzled and licked her palm. Then he did something that she would never forget – he cleared his throat and moved her off his lap.

Confused and frustrated, she stared at him.

Severus sighed, but did not look at her. “If we didn’t stop there, I would have you.”

His meaning was perfectly clear and validated the storm brewing within her. Her curiosity got the better of her. “Has it always been like that between us?”

Severus chuckled and adjusted the duvet around his hips. “Yes and no.”

Inwardly, Hermione growled. What kind of answer was that?

“We were primarily antagonistic toward one another,” he explained solemnly. “I would like to say that our first time was…good for you. However, it was not. In my defense, I was led to believe that you were experienced.”

Hermione blushed.

“Other times were much more enjoyable,” her husband teased with a smirk. “I can put the memories in a Pensieve if you wish to view them.”

The blush in her cheeks felt like a slow-burning fire and she averted her gaze. “It’s not nice to tease,” she murmured self-consciously.

A warm hand encompassed hers and she felt her breath hitch in her chest.

“I am not teasing you.”

Hermione studied her hands which were entwined with his.

“You still doubt my desire for you.” Lifting one of her hands to his face, Severus nipped the soft pad of her palm.

She was unable to contain the strangled groan that escaped any more than she could stop the rampant thoughts of lustful deeds that he had inspired.

“I am not Mr. Weasley,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “I want you more than you can possibly comprehend.”

“Oh,” was all she managed to say. Shifting on the uncomfortable sofa, she grimaced. “This couch is so uncomfortable.”

“Perhaps you should go back to bed,” Severus suggested.

Smiling hesitantly because she still had every intention of leaving, Hermione looked Severus in the eye. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll stay here and amuse myself.”

--

He could sense her deceit and didn’t know whether to be amused or insulted that his wife thought he would actually fall for such a tactic. Gryffindors were not known for their subtlety. She had every intention of bolting as soon as his back was turned.

“I have an even better idea,” he countered. “We both go to bed and forget about this nonsense of running away.”

“What –”

He placed a fingertip upon her lips to silence her protest.

“Minus your snoring, we managed to sleep together quite well,” Severus said with as straight a face as he could muster. His wife didn’t actually snore, but she did tend to mumble in her sleep. “We can both get some much needed rest.”

“I don’t snore,” she huffed indignantly. “And I promise not to go anywhere.”

“You’ll have to do better than that, Hermione.” Severus wrapped the duvet around his waist and stood up. He grabbed his wand and pointed it at her. “Would you take a wizard’s oath to insure that promise?”

“I, um…What exactly does a wizard’s oath entail?” she asked hesitantly.

Severus grinned. “Trust and compromise.”

Tapping her wand to his, Hermione smiled. “Very well, Severus. I promise not to leave.”

His little minx of a wife wasn’t going to get away with such a vague promise. “I’m afraid it isn’t quite that easy,” he practically purred. “In order for an oath to be magically sealed, each party must be willing to give something up should they fail to keep their end of the bargain. Since this is a strictly one-sided oath…” He let her draw her own conclusions, hoping she would take the bait he’d so skillfully set.

With a resigned sigh, his wife gracefully conceded defeat. “What do you want from me if I break my promise?”

“First of all,” Severus goaded, “your ‘promise’ is too vague. I would like it to be more specific.” He waved his wand around for emphasis as if he were searching for the right words.

“You should promise not to leave Hogwarts without a proper chaperone, such as myself, Minerva, or Albus until this situation with Lockhart is resolved. Or you should promise not to leave Hogwarts at all until the situation with Lockhart is resolved.”

“Why do I feel like I need legal advice?” Hermione questioned, one of her eyebrows quirking in disbelief.

“If you like, I could get a barrister for you.” Severus lowered his wand and walked toward the fireplace.

“No,” she growled belligerently, but soon composed herself. “I think we can come to an arrangement. I’ll take the first suggestion. Before I take the oath, I need to know what you want in return -- not that I’m going to break the promise or anything.”

“You.”

Hermione flinched.

Severus damned himself as soon as the one-syllable word slipped past his lips.

“The opportunity…” he struggled for the words. “…To get to know you better. You must promise not to leave Hogwarts at any time without the proper chaperone, at least not until Lockhart is apprehended. If you do not keep your promise, then I will be able to locate you with ease and you will have no choice but to do as I wish.”

--

Pacing back and forth like an expectant father, Hermione wrung her hands together. Her husband was having a lie-in this morning.

“Damn, why did I take that oath? I’m a grown woman. I should have made Severus understand. I should have stunned him and walked away,” she whispered to herself, mindful of the library rules.

“I need to find a way to break the oath in a truthful manner so that he cannot find me,” she mumbled, trying to reason her way through her predicament. What’s the point of running if he can find me?

“Why are you running?” her inner turmoil questioned her flawed reasoning. “Something tells me you tried running before. If you did, it obviously didn’t work.

Sighing, she sat at the nearest table and drummed her nails on the polished surface. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was the little voice in her head that reminded her she was infallible. Hermione hated being wrong. It didn’t happen very often and it was something she’d never gotten used to.

“Look at me,” she grumbled, burying her hands in her face. “I’ve gone mental – absolutely stark raving mad.”

“I’ll say,\" another inner voice chimed in. “Why did you marry Snape in the first place?

Hermione’s head shot up and she looked around the room. Just how many voices did she have in her head? Perhaps she should name them. The first one can be the voice of reason and the second one can be the voice of doubt.

“Well, you did hit your head,” reason reminded her.

“Why are you running away?” doubt asked.

If her voice of reason had eyes it would have rolled them. “I think it has something to do with our noble sense of Gryffindor self-sacrifice. She thinks she’ll be protecting everyone she loves if she goes into hiding.”

“Is she really running away to protect everybody or is she running away from Severus?” the voice of doubt questioned.

“Brilliant observations!” the voice of reason responded smartly.

“I am not running away from Snape,” she hissed.

“Did you say something Madam Snape?” a hesitant voice whispered.

Hermione jumped and almost fell out of her seat as she tried to see who was behind her.

“I’m sorry, Madam Snape,” William, a fifth-year Ravenclaw, apologized. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Hermione smiled as she stood up. “That’s all right. I was just trying to work through a problem. I tend to…talk to myself when I do that.”

“Me too,” the student responded brightly.

The boy blushed. “I’m sorry,” he said as he held out his hand. “I’m William. You probably don’t remember me, but you helped me and my girlfriend before…”

“You can say it,” coaxed Hermione, taking his hand in hers and shaking it. “Before I was Obliviated.”

Exhaling, William shook the Healer’s hand enthusiastically. “I kind of figured you wouldn’t remember me.”

Sitting down at the table, Hermione motioned for him to have a seat. “Would you like to sit down?”

“No thanks, Madam Snape,” William said. “I have to get going. Allison’s waiting on me.”

Watching the young student leave, Hermione felt a wave of disappointment wash over her. Life was so much simpler when she was a student here. She only had to worry about Harry and Ron, and getting them through exams – that and the impending war with Voldemort.

Thinking of Harry, an idea tickled the back of her mind and she perked up. Harry’s mother had cast the Fidelius Charm to hide from Voldemort. Why couldn’t she do the same and hide from Lockhart?

“There she goes again,” reason railed. “And just who would you get to be your Secret Keeper? Do you honestly think Lockhart is going to leave everyone you’ve ever loved alone just because you’re ‘gone?’”

“Who said anything about hiding,” Hermione murmured softly as she started to formulate a plan. “Perhaps it’s time Gilderoy knew what it felt like to be hunted.”

--

Three days had elapsed since his wife had taken the wizard’s oath. Tonight, Hermione sat quietly on the settee – the one from which he’d removed the hex off. Even without the curse, the couch was uncomfortable. He should know. He had been trying to sleep on the blasted thing for the last few nights.

It was a small sacrifice to ensure her safety.

Covertly, he observed his wife, who was sitting with one of her legs tucked underneath her. She was reading a thick book on magical medicine, her expression intent as she twirled a strand of her hair. Occasionally, she would stop and nibble on one of her nails.

Looking down at the essay he was grading, Severus pushed it away. Grading first-year essays was worse than the Cruciatus Curse. A smidgen of guilt impeded his thoughts. Hermione was so young. Reflexively, he stomped it down. He had done the right thing. He was content with the bond. She could learn to accept it. Perhaps, in time, she could even love him.

Albus’ words had haunted him. Their souls were irrevocably intertwined for all time.

Severus couldn’t even remember where he’d heard the incantation of ancient magic. He must have read it somewhere. Did it really matter? Either way, the old magic had worked. Hermione was his.

But how did he show her without alienating her? His normal approach of coercion would not do. His previous relationships had consisted of sex. In fact, he had a difficult time remembering ever having an encounter where the exchange of Galleons hadn’t been involved.

“What?” The one-word question broke his reverie.

“What?” he answered hastily.

“I don’t know,” said Hermione. “You’re the one staring at me. Do I have something in my hair, on my face…?”

“My apologies, Hermione.” Bowing his head, Severus made like he was marking the essays. “It was not my intention to disturb you.”

Closing her book and shoving it into her bag, Hermione exhaled. “I’m sorry, Severus. I’m sorry for snapping at you and taking up your space. I’ll go finish reading in the bedroom.”

Standing, Hermione started to stretch the kinks out of her neck and back.

He gazed upon the supple arch of her back. Her actions showcased the generous curve of her breasts and bum, enflaming him. Severus shot up, knocking his chair backwards. He walked round his desk and stopped in front of his wife. The yearning to have her had to be controlled.

He’d been a spy most of his life, for Merlin’s sake! Surely he could control his desire for this witch.

Hermione was startled by his proximity and stepped back, knocking her bag over. The book she had been reading fell out and Severus swooped down and retrieved it, puzzling over the title. He could have sworn she’d been reading a book on magical medicine, but this was a charms book.

Her dark brown eyes went wide and she snatched the book from his hand. “Thank you,” she muttered.

His wife looked nervous and uneasy. What else could he expect? He’d terrorized her for seven years and ignored her for five. He’d never given her any reason to trust him. An impulse took hold of him and he amazed even himself with what he said next.

“I was feeling a bit peckish. Would you care to accompany me to the kitchens for a late night snack?”

--

Hermione didn\'t know what she had expected as she looked down at the book in her hands, but an invitation to raid the kitchens wasn\'t it. “Yes,” she replied, before she could analyze the situation.

Her husband held his arm out and she motioned for him to wait. “I just need to put my things away.”

“Very well,” he replied. “I’ll wait.”

Picking up her bag, she shoved the book in and walked into the bedroom. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. If Severus had looked any closer, her plan would have gone up in smoke. She had started reading about the Fidelius Charm. She had charmed the book to look like a medical journal in the event that anybody examines it too closely. Not only was the Fidelius Charm very complicated, but it was near impossible.

But it needed to be done.

Even though her memory of being stalked was fairly recent, she was sick of it. She was going to turn the table on Gilderoy Lockhart. She was going to stalk him. Once she found him, she was going to smack him around for a bit, then Obliviate him. In order to do that, she needed to vanish. It was going to take some time to get things ready to cast the charm, but it would be worth it once she got a hold of the lunatic.

Plastering what she hoped was a convincing smile on her face, she opened the door.

--

With immense pleasure, Severus watched his wife indulge her sweet tooth. It was quite refreshing to see her relish the chocolate concoction. Since Hermione had returned to Hogwarts, her appetite had waned, which was a shame. He enjoyed her voluptuous shape.

“You could have gone into any field. Why did you choose Medicine?” he asked, toying with his dessert. Severus found himself unable to take his eyes off her as her tongue darted across her bottom lip, catching a stray piece of confection.

She stared at him, contemplating his question. “My answer may seem trite, but I’ve only ever wanted to help.”

The irony did not escape him. If only he could have spared her the suffering of war. “No,” he disagreed, unwilling to slip into remembrance of the many lessons he had learned. “Your answer is not trite. It is very…Gryffindor of you.”

“Then you probably think it silly of me.” She cleared her throat and dabbed her napkin at the corners of her mouth.

Shoving his dish away, Severus crossed his arms over his chest. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to solicit an argument with me.”

“And why, my dear Professor, would I choose to do that?” she questioned, a somewhat challenging tone in her voice.

The endearment twisted something inside him. This is one of the few moments in his life where he felt hopeful. Standing, Severus walked around the table and stood behind her. “To get me to kiss you, of course,” he whispered, leaning down and brushing the hair from her nape.

--

Her husband was so close she could feel the heat radiating off him. His masculine scent enticed her libido to play along. She had never known a man’s touch. (Well, she had. She just didn’t remember it.) It was a slow burn, one that the turned her sugar-laden stomach into knots.

This was so unfair. Her tenuous grasp on reality cracked and she leaned into his touch. “I d-don’t think that’s the re-reason.”

“My memories of our brief time together haunt me, Hermione.” She could hear restrained lust quiver in his voice. This did not bode well. If he was feeling what she was feeling, no wonder they were married. Pornographic images danced through her thoughts and she found herself unable to reply.

Hermione moaned. The last thing she needed was to start shagging him. If that happened, she would never leave.

“Would you like me to kiss you, Hermione?” Severus asked before pressing his lips against the delicate shell of her ear.

“Yes.” The traitorous answer escaped past her lips, lips that were poised to receive her husband’s kiss.

A loud crash ruined the moment. Hermione sprang from her seat and unsheathed her wand, pointing it toward the noise and shoving her husband behind her. Shadows danced around the room, making it difficult to see. “Lumos!”

“Hermione,” Severus said.

“Show yourself!” Hermione demanded.

A hiccuping noise came from the corner of the room.

“Hermione.” Severus grabbed her wrist. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I think I can hold my own against a drunk house-elf.”

Winky staggered into the light and fell flat on her face.

Lowering her wand, Hermione blinked.

--

Severus could feel her trembling. He didn’t need Legilimens to tell she was terrified. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her in his arms. “It’s only a house-elf,” he whispered, stroking her hair and trying to calm her.

She continued to shiver and he shushed her. It wasn’t until she snorted that he realized she was laughing. She pulled away and he felt the loss of her warmth keenly. Animated, smiling eyes stared into his. Her smile wavered and her gaze lingered on his mouth.

Smirking, Severus leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek. When he drew back, he could see latent desire in her stare. Even though he wanted nothing more than to take advantage of her conflicted emotions, he wouldn’t.

He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should call it a night.”

A look of disappointment crossed her features and he almost felt guilty.

What happened next took him totally by surprise. His wife grabbed hold of his robes and pulled as hard as she could. He lost his balance and leaned forward. Eager lips pressed against his.

Damning his noble motives, Severus tried to ease Hermione aside. But his wife would have none of that as she held on to him, thrusting her body into his. It was fortunate that he had regained his balance; otherwise, they would have landed on the floor. Her eyes were scrunched closed, the furrow of her brow a familiar one. It was the crease that formed when she was concentrating too hard.

Her tongue hesitated against his lips and he eagerly opened for her. Her exploration was desperate and needy and he was puzzled as to the reason why. Holding her with one arm, he reached for his wand with the other and broke the kiss. “Open your eyes,” he instructed.

Various hues of brown blended together in her eyes. They were bottomless pools of curious lust, and had the power of a siren’s call. Grasping his wand, he pulled her closer and whispered the incantation that would enable him to know more. “Legilimens.”

Her panic was overwhelming. Winky must have frightened her more than she would admit to. The panic mixed with lust, and Severus was able to discern her true motivation for the kiss.

She was scared.

He couldn’t take advantage of that. He needed to reassure her. Before he could set his plan in motion, she kissed him again. This time it was a timid, unsure kiss. She was seeking permission, almost begging for it.

The house-elf snored, reminding him they were not alone.

He was reluctant to end the kiss and discourage her sexual advances. Her confidence was fragile. Clasping her hands in his, Severus pried her fingers from the material of his robe and stopped the kiss.

Seeing hurt and confusion in her eyes, he kissed her knuckles.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered shakily.

Severus exhaled slowly, calling upon reserves of strength he didn’t know he possessed. “If we don’t stop now, we risk discovery.”

“I see,” Hermione replied, her voice laced with disappointment.

His virgin bride was full of surprises. The prospect of being discovered turned some women on. Apparently, his wife was one of them.

“Hermione,” he whispered her name as though he were saying a prayer. “If we don’t stop now, I’ll spread you on the table and have you as a late night snack.”

Her cheeks flushed a bright red and he knew she understood his meaning.

--

Leaning against the bedroom door, Hermione closed her eyes. What had possessed her to kiss Severus? And why did her entire body ache?

Lamps lit themselves as she walked through the room. She stopped in front of the large ornamental mirror to see if her cheeks were as bright as they felt. She studied her reflection. Red cheeks, swollen lips, wild hair…Yes, it was her alright. She looked like a demented Santa Claus.

“You really are too severe on yourself,” her reflection chastised unhappily as it studied her.

Hermione gave a startled gasp and jumped back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were enchanted,” she muttered and backed away. She didn’t particularly care for mirrors.

“I’m more cursed than enchanted really,” the mirror sighed.

Always one to enjoy a good mystery, Hermione sat down. “How so?”

“Your husband curses me every chance he gets,” the reflection delivered the punch line with a wide smile. “I’m sorry, but you walked right into that one.”

“Why does he curse you?” Hermione leaned forward, very interested in any insight about Severus.

Her reflection walked across the room and sat on the bed, assuming a similar pose as its mistress. “He doesn’t like the truth.”

“What truth?”

Grinning wildly, her doppelganger stared at her. There was almost a mad, maniacal gleam in her eye. “He is madly and hopelessly in love with you. He desires you above all others. I must say that he has behaved very well the last few days – no scheming, no coercion.”

“How would you know?” Hermione stared at the mirror expectantly.

“I remember all truths,” her reflection said as it took to studying Hermione again.

Feeling as though she were being scrutinized, Hermione averted her gaze.

Her doppelganger shook its head in disapproval. “Your plan is foolhardy. You may mean well, but in the end you’ll only hurt the ones you’re trying to protect.”

She wasn’t even going to deny it. “So you’re a fortune teller, too?” Hermione sneered.

“No,” her reflection replied. “I am you.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” she huffed, getting off the bed and pulling the duvets back. She shrugged out of her robe and got into bed. Waving her wand, she extinguished the lights.

“The truth is difficult to face sometimes.”

--

Nightmares and daydreams had a way of blending together. To say the least, Hermione hadn’t slept well at all last night. Scenes of unadulterated lust filtered through her dreams, making for a restless night and an exhausted day.

Hermione was finding it difficult to concentrate, which made her task of inventorying medicinal potions tedious. The overwhelming urge to yawn passed over her and she was unable to resist. She did her best to stifle the yawn, but it still escaped.

“Did you not sleep well last night?”

Severus’ voice startled her and Hermione dropped a Blood Replenishing Potion – the bottle containing it shattering against the hard stone floor.

“Here, let me get that,” he said, waving his wand over the pool of spilt potion. “Evanesco.”

Warily, she watched him as she waited for the password. To prevent further Polyjuice tactics from being used, a password system had been devised. The system was Professor Flitwick’s idea. Being such, it was a little on the ridiculous side. She was having a difficult time keeping up with everybody’s password, even her own.

“Password?” she asked.

“Christmas,” he replied with a nervous grin. “Yours?”

“Pumpkin juice,” Hermione said with a sense of relief. “Can I help you with something?”

Her husband regarded her for a moment before he responded. “Would you do me the honor of being my escort tonight?”

Her husband was full of surprises. “Of course,” she responded automatically. “I’d love to.”

Formal to the point of being annoying, Severus bowed. “Very well. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a secret,” Severus whispered conspiratorially.

*****